


Blackest Night

by GwendolynGrace



Series: Blackstory [15]
Category: Alternity - A Harry Potter Alternate Universe, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter Alternity - Fandom
Genre: Backstory, Blackstory, Canon Backstory, Canon Compliant, Gen, HP Alternity, RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 19:31:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4758224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGrace/pseuds/GwendolynGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius leaves 12 Grimmauld Place for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackest Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2008-2010. This is one of a series of "Blackstory" - backstory about the Blacks - that I wrote while playing in the RPG, HP Alternity. All actions were approved by players at the time of writing. Because these also took place prior to the divergence of the game, they can also be considered canon-compliant.

1974

 

Uncle Alphard pressed the handful of Galleons into Sirius' hand. 'Here. This ought to get you through the holiday, at least, and then when you are back at Hogwarts, we can determine the best plan for you for the summer holidays. Next year, you'll be of age and can do what you wish.'

'Uncle, I don't need—'

'This is not charity,' his uncle assured him, 'but a reward for speaking the truth. Especially around those we love, and at times when we are pressured to get on together, it is difficult to choose what is right. Your mother was wrong, and you said so. You may find that being your own man is worth the occasional price.'

'The price of being homeless on Christmas?' Sirius asked bitterly.

His uncle smiled. 'I think if your friends are any friends at all, they will understand the circumstances.' He touched Sirius' shoulder briefly, and then with a nod, went back inside.

Sirius stood in the square a moment longer, watching his uncle go. A curtain twitched to the right of the door; Sirius could see Reg's white face peering out at him. His brother's expression was utterly unreadable. After a moment, Reg disappeared behind the curtain, but the door did not open.

Sirius sighed. He looked down at the coins, but stuffed them in his pockets. He shivered. He wished, not for the first time, that he had not left his motorcycle with James, in a (futile) attempt to keep the peace at home. If he wished, he had money now for the Knight Bus. He considered, but thought it better to save his uncle's legacy for things he would really need later. Instead of pulling out his wand, he walked round the corner and concentrated.

Every time he transformed, it got easier. Immediately he felt the warmth of his shaggy fur coat and the higher core temperature of his dog form. He trotted to the high street and walked along it, hoping an obliging lorry would pass by before too long.

~*~

It had been dark for several hours when Sirius arrived at the Potters' house. He had had to walk the last mile or so, but his fur was doing a fair job at keeping him warm. The pads of his paws were about frozen, however.

He ducked behind a nearby hedgerow and thought human thoughts. When he could wiggle toes and fingers again, and the sharp winter air cut through his robes, he opened his eyes, stepped into the lane, and hurried up to the inviting red door with its holly wreath. He only hesitated a moment or two before ringing the bell.

'Sirius?' Mrs Potter frowned when she opened the door, but only for a second. Then, 'Come in, please, come in. Happy Christmas.'

'Happy Christmas,' Sirius muttered automatically. 'I'm sorry to disturb--'

'Not at all, dear. We just ... weren't expecting you. We're just having pudding.' She called to James. 'Come see who's turned up.'

Mr Potter rose from his chair to greet Sirius at the dining room door. 'James didn't say you'd be dropping in, lad,' he said, shaking Sirius' hand like a man grown.

'No, I--'

'Oh, God, it's happened, hasn't it?' James said. 'You've--'

'Forgot to bring your present, yeah,' Sirius interrupted with a warning look at James. 'Isn't that daft? Came all this way to give it to you, mate, and left home without it.'

Mr and Mrs Potter exchanged a glance that mirrored the look James and Sirius shared. But, polite as they were, they let Sirius' lie stand.

'Well, sit down, then,' Mrs Potter told him. She pointed her wand to slide a fourth chair to the table. 'Have you had your supper?'

'Er, no, thank you, I'm not hungry.' Actually, the thought of food made his stomach turn upside-down. It was all he could do not to gag.

'A teenaged boy not hungry? Cyrus, have you ever heard such a thing?'

'It's a phenomenon,' Mr Potter agreed, grinning.

'Go on, then, Sirius, at least have a slice of pie.'

'No, really, I, I couldn't. I just--came to talk to James for a little while.' He looked at James imploringly.

'Mum, do you mind if Sirius and I take our tea into the sitting room?'

Again, Mrs Potter glanced over at her husband. Then she swept her eyes over Sirius' face. 'Yes, of course, James. Don't mind us old folk. Go right ahead.'

James had no sooner brought Sirius into the sitting room, their tea and pie hovering behind them, when he said, 'What the hell, Sirius?'

'Shhhh. I don't want your parents making a fuss.'

'You've done it, haven't you? You've gone and murdered your mum.'

Sirius smiled despite the churning in his stomach. 'No. But I've left, Prongs. I've had it.'

James sank to the sofa. 'Are you...I mean, you're sure? It's not just a temporary thing?'

Sirius shook his head. 'Even if I changed my mind, which I shan't, I doubt they'll have me back.'

'What happened?'

Sirius drew a breath. For a moment, he thought he could let the tale tumble out, but just as he started to form the words, he felt a horrid prickle at the corners of his eyes. He didn't trust himself to speak and hold back the flood, so he just shrugged. 'The usual bollocks. Only worse than usual. I just can't do it anymore.'

James nodded. 'Okay. I'll go ask Mum if you can stay the night, yeah?'

'Thanks, mate.' Sirius' voice came out a whisper, and he barely avoided cracking.

He was glad that James wasn't there to see his hands shake when he picked up his teacup.

~*~

Mrs Potter was hospitality itself. With a few flicks of the wand, she freshened up the guest room for Sirius. 'Of course, we wouldn't dream of sending you home in this cold. Are you sure you'd rather not go back by Floo?'

'He's knackered, Mum, leave off,' James chided gently.

'I'll be fine in the morning. My bike's in your shed,' Sirius pointed out.

'Oh, you can't ride that in this weather,' Mrs Potter said diplomatically. 'Perhaps you'd best stay another day or two, hm?'

Sirius swallowed hard. 'Yes, I...maybe I better had,' he agreed.

Mrs Potter smiled at him kindly. 'As long as you like, Sirius.' She continued, 'James, I think there's an extra pillow in the linen cupboard. Would you?' but she didn't look away from Sirius' face.

Once James had moved away, she said: 'We’re very glad you came to us, Sirius. Stay as long as you need to do.' She patted his arm in a very maternal way. The tears, which Sirius had been holding back since arriving, formed in his eyes. He blinked and two tracks worked their way down his cheeks.

Her look of sympathy didn't change, but she didn’t press him to tell her anything. She merely nodded. 'Try and get some sleep, dear. We'll sort it all out in the morning.'

She retreated from the guest room, saving him what remained of his dignity. Sirius could hear her tell James that he needn't have brought the pillow, after all, and that he ought to leave Sirius to his rest for the time being.

He'd never been more grateful to her in his life.

~*~

He couldn't sleep. He was beyond exhausted, but every time he settled himself and began to relax, the argument came back to him. It was like a film on an endless loop, replaying over and over. He was almost relieved when there was a scratch against his door.

'All right, Padfoot?' James whispered when Sirius let him in.

'I've muffed it, James,' Sirius whispered back. He was glad they weren't trying to speak. He still didn't trust his voice to remain steady. ‘Bollocksed it up but good.’

'It'll blow over, mate,' James said encouragingly.

But Sirius shook his head. 'Not this time. I'm done, James. I mean it--even if they would forgive me, which they won't do, I'm not going back there.'

'What happened?' James wanted to know.

They sat together on the bed and Sirius saw the film begin again. His father, making an off-hand comment about muggles. His mother, adding her own opinion about the ills they represented and telling his aunt and uncle some story about hexing the neighbours' drying line so that she didn't have to see their disgraceful washing during the summers. Then the conversation turning to all things muggle and therefore awful. Their efforts (thus far fruitless) to purge their son of his fascination, which Uncle Cygnus assured her was just a 'phase.' How he took another glass of wine, even though he was already feeling quite flushed in the cheeks, and remarked that it was nothing like. And on and on.

'It doesn't matter,' he said with more force than he intended, but more calm than he thought possible. 'The point is, I'll not stand it any longer. They're bigots, they're bloody racist pigs, they are. And I can't live under that roof again.'

'All right,' James told him. 'We'll figure something out. I mean, you can stay here, obviously, until we go back. And Easter holidays as well, if you like. Summer, though. I can ask--'

'I'll get a place, I think,' Sirius said. He'd been thinking about it all the way from London, and dreaming of his own home long before that. 'Uncle Alphard gave me some money. I'll lie about my age if I have to do.' 

'Okay,' James agreed. 'We can work all that out later.'

They both fell silent. Sirius hugged his knees to his chest and rocked slightly against the headboard.

'I'm glad you came here,' James said after a minute. ‘Did you…I mean, were you….’

‘Most of the way, yeah. I jumped onto a lorry to get to the station, and then onto a boxcar, but yeah, did it all as Padfoot.’

‘Brilliant,’ James said with admiration. ‘Well, it’s about time you chucked them, mate. You’re better than all of them.’

'Yeah.' He felt the prickle again, although he thought he'd cried more than enough when Mrs Potter first left him to himself in the spare bedroom. James said nothing, but put his arm around his shoulders. 'They're bloody wankers,' Sirius insisted, aware that it had come out almost a sob. He turned into James's chest, again insanely grateful that James did nothing but hold on supportively.

'Yeah, they are,' James murmured. 'You're well out of it.'

Saying it, hearing it said, did little to make him believe it, though. Once, his father had told him that all his protestations of not caring whether he remained part of the family were just bravado, that underneath he really was scared to death of being disavowed.

He never believed it could be true.

~*~

Sirius fell asleep from sheer exhaustion some time later. He woke the next morning at nearly half-nine by the bedside clock. Weak light filtered through the window and James had gone. Sirius glanced down at his creased and dishevelled robes, realising that he had nothing to change into. He needed a shower. And he was famished.

He was about to sneak down the corridor to James to borrow some clothes (which would have been too small, but better than nothing), when there was a polite knock on the door.

‘Sirius?’ Mrs Potter called gently. ‘Are you awake, dear?’

Sirius let her in. ‘Thanks again, for letting me stay,’ he mumbled.

‘Not to worry, dear. I’ve brought you some robes. They’re Mr Potter’s; you’re more of a size with him than our James. I expect you’ll want to freshen up first, but if you’re too hungry to wait for tea, I’ll warm up some breakfast for you.’

As soon as she said it, his stomach growled. To cover the noise, he said, ‘No, I’ve imposed enough—’

‘Nonsense,’ she told him briskly. ‘We’re always happy to host any friend of James’, you know that.’ She set the robes and a towel and washcloth on the foot of the bed, but rather than leaving, came back and shut the door. Her voice took on a more business-like tone. ‘Now, no arguing, Sirius. James has told us that you left home last night, as if we hadn’t already suspected it. Not that I blame you,’ she said, her mouth twisting, ‘but whatever happened, we’re glad you came here, where we can look after you. Now, Cyrus has sent an owl to your parents—’

‘ _What?_ Why? Saying what?!’ Sirius sputtered.

‘Shh, it’s all right, dear. Just to let them know you’re here and you’re safe. I’m sure they’re worried out of their minds.’

Sirius scoffed.

‘You may not think it, but wait until you’re a parent, Sirius,’ Mrs Potter insisted.

‘Mrs Potter,’ Sirius said, as gently as he could, ‘I don’t think you quite understand. I dunno what James told you, but I didn’t just run away last night. They turned me out.’

Her beneficent smile faltered. ‘On the street?’

Sirius nodded once.

‘On Christmas Day?’ she continued, clearly appalled.

He nodded again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, feeling wretched, ‘but they don’t care where I’ve gone, so long as I’m gone.’

Mrs Potter shook her head. Her mouth pursed in rebuke, but of him or his parents, he couldn’t say. She reached out to pat his arm. ‘I’m sure it felt that way yesterday, dear, but now that everyone’s had a night to cool off—’

‘No,’ Sirius insisted, ‘you don’t understand. Look, you and Mr Potter, you’re—normal,’ he said, ashamed to have to put it that way. ‘But my parents…. My mother’s probably blasting my name off our family tapestry as we speak, if she hasn’t already done it.’

Once again, Mrs Potter screwed up her face in an expression of disgust. ‘Sirius, God knows your mother is a—a _hard_ woman,’ she admitted, ‘and your father is proud as well. But you trust me and Cyrus, hm? We’ll talk to them.’

Sirius’ eyes widened. ‘No, that would be the worst thing. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, I’m not going back.’

~*~

Mr Potter was less surprised than his wife at Sirius’ pronouncement. ‘I don’t blame you, son,’ he said knowingly. They were all together in the sitting room, taking tea. ‘Still, that means we’ll need to arrange for your things. Your books, school supplies, clothes—’

‘Good luck,’ Sirius snorted. He felt much more refreshed after a shower, even if Mr Potter’s robes hung a little long on him, and the cut made him feel like a vicar. ‘They didn’t even give me five minutes to grab a cloak. I’ve only got my wand because it was in my pocket.’

He hung his head, again feeling a pang of betrayal. He knew that his family was far from a model of love and compassion, but here he was, candidly revealing details that should have remained private business, despite his commitment to abandoning them. The image of Regulus, watching him out the window, floated in his sight, blurring the patterns on the carpet.

But Mr Potter was still reassuring him. ‘You leave that to me.’

‘Sir….’ Sirius struggled to find a way to explain without insulting his host. ‘Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but my father’s…a dangerous man,’ he finished, unable to condemn him, even now, as a dark wizard.

Mr Potter nodded. ‘I’ve heard the rumours,’ he said.

‘They’re not rumours,’ Sirius told him. ‘He’s fought four duels this year.’

Mrs Potter’s spoon clattered against her teacup. ‘Are you sure of that?’ she breathed.

Sirius looked away.

Mr Potter’s voice brought him back. ‘I’m not afraid of Orion Black, son,’ he said confidently.

Sirius sighed, halfway between laughter and desperation. ‘You should be, sir.’

Mr Potter chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Sirius: just because I’m not afraid, that doesn’t mean I shan’t be cautious. I can’t blame you for wanting to move out ahead of schedule, but even your parents will understand that you’ll need your things. They won’t want the scandal it would mean if the _Prophet_ hears about them turning out their son, on Christmas, with only the clothes on his back. Will they?’

Sirius raised his head. ‘You’d blackmail them?’ he breathed.

Mr Potter winked at him. ‘Come along, Sirius,’ he said with an impish smile. ‘You don’t seriously think our James is the only clever one in this family, do you?’

For the first time in almost twenty-four hours, Sirius genuinely laughed.


End file.
